The Light in the Darkness
by MakorraLove97
Summary: When there's a complication during a mission, Clint ends up with serious damage that the doctors aren't able to fix. When he wakes up, Natasha is the one to tell him what happened to him and how he'll forever be trapped in darkness. Clint has a hard time coping, but Natasha's right by his side. He doesn't know if he'll ever be okay again, but he has Natasha and always will. *Angst*


**Hi guys! :) Here's another Clintasha fanfic; the idea has been stuck in my head for a while now and I finally decided to write it and see where it goes. So, here's a one-shot, hope you like it! :)**

**Enjoy and please do comment/review and let me know what you think of it, all opinions and reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading! ^_^**

**I OWN NOTHING; I DO NOT OWN THE AVENGERS.**

* * *

"_The Light in the Darkness_"

**. . .**

Natasha doesn't remember how long she's been sitting there, in the same spot, but she does know it has to have been a while if agent after agent comes into the room she's in, assuring her she should head back to her room while they looked after him.

No one would leave her alone; constantly coming in the room she's in, offering her food, water, company, everything and anything. No one will just leave her be while she sits in the same chair she's been sitting in for the last three days.

The Director came in a few hours ago to check on her and her partner, so is lying perfectly still on top of the white, plain, hospital bed. Before the words even left his mouth, Natasha clearly told him she wasn't moving until her partner was okay and he was okay to leave the infirmary. She wasn't leaving without him and she made sure everybody knew it.

Natasha Romanoff sits there with her hand placed over Clint Barton's hand as her eyes stay glued to the bandages that are wrapped around his eyes. She watches his chest slightly raise and then fall back down, signaling he's breathing and still alive.

Clint has been out conscious for three days now, lying in the hospital bed the stillest she's ever seen him and the quietest she's ever heard him. Not a sound escaped him; she barely heard him breathing.

If she was being honest with herself, she would have to say she was, for once in her entire life, absolutely scared. She was scared and she can't help the twists and turns her stomach is doing as she patiently waits by her partner's bedside to wake up.

"Clint," Her voice comes out so quiet; so shaky, "you have to wake up. I _need_ you to wake up. I just need to know you're going to be okay. Please." Natasha, a confident, strong, brave, smart, power Black Widow is now begging an unconscious man to wake up.

Quite honestly, Natasha can't see herself continuing to work at SHIELD if her partner is with her, by her side. She can't picture her _life_ without him. They've grown so close to one another and she'd be dammed to let him slip right through her fingers before she gets to tell her partner, her best friend, how she truly feels about him.

The Black Widow runs her hand through her hair as a sigh escapes her chapped lips. She closes her eyes for a brief second before opening them again and letting them lock with Clint's pale, sweaty face.

The white bandage that is wrapped around his eyes makes her cringe as she remembers how exactly they got to this point in time. They were simply finishing one of their missions in a factory located in Odessa. Everything was going perfectly according to plan until they were somehow spotted and their cover was blown.

Natasha and Clint had no problem taking down whoever came at them, but when Natasha made a slip up and a man had her at gunpoint, Clint had no other option then to listen to what the man told him to do. Usually, at these situations, Clint would have to take the risk and try to take out the man, but in this case, where Natasha could have gotten hurt, he wouldn't take the chance.

The man told Clint to drop his weapon, which he did, and kick it over to the man. Natasha yelled at her partner to not listen to the man and kill him, but Clint simply ignored her when the gun shifted from her side to her head.

Natasha closes her eyes as the memory replays in her head, making shivers crawl down her spine. She squeezes his hand in hers and shakes her head, whispering, "I'm so sorry. It's my fault. This is my fault."

The man's cover was blown and he knew it. He had to get out of the factory as quickly as possible before he was caught or killed. The man ended up slamming the gun over Natasha's head, knocking her to the ground, barely conscious, as he dashed out of the factory. Clint, on the other hand, refused to let him get away and took off chasing him.

When Clint caught up to the man, they struggled and fought; they both shared the same strength, though, which was a problem.

The man used Clint's own gun against him as he shot Clint in the leg and then kicked him in the stomach, sending him to his knees. The man didn't waste a second before grabbing a cup off the desk that's placed next to a machine and throwing it right in Clint's face.

All Natasha could hear while in the factory then was Clint's loud, bloodcurdling, piercing scream echoing throughout the empty factory. She somehow made it to her feet after hearing his scream and she rushed to where they were, finding the man limping away, but she didn't even have to blink before she raised a gun she found on the floor and shot the man right in the head, killing him instantly.

Once back at the infirmary back at SHIELD headquarters, it didn't take the doctors very long to determine what was in the cup that the man threw over Clint Barton's eyes.

Acid.

No matter how many times she repeated in her head that Barton's going to be fine, it didn't convince her; she knew the truth. Once the doctors told her it was acid that was splashed on his face and into his eyes, she knew it wasn't going to be okay. They didn't have to explain to her what acid does and what would happen to her partner now.

His hand twitches and her eyes widen at the sudden movement. She pulls her chair even closer to the bed as she grips his hand tighter, "Clint? Hey, can you hear me?"

With his free hand, he slowly begins to move it up to the bandages that are placed on his eyes, but she quickly stops him, forcing him to place his arm back down on the bed. "You should leave it alone. Don't touch it."

He groans and shifts his head so he's facing her; she can feel his hand tighten around hers. "…N…Nat?" His voice is shaky, low, and hoarse. His lips are dried and his throat feels like it's on fire.

"It's me; I'm right here. Are you okay? How are you holding up?" She knows she shouldn't be asking him a bunch of questions at once when he _just_ woke up, but she needs to know he's alright. If he's not, she'll have to rush right out of the room, leaving him for the first time, to find a doctor that can help him. She's considering that, too, right now, as she is deafened by his silence.

As if reading her thoughts, he shakes his head, speaking slowly, "No… s-stay… here. Don't go. Please… please don't go Tasha."

"I'm not leaving your side. I promise you I'll be right here, staying with you, okay?" Her voice is gentle and her eyes are full of sympathy as she stares down at his vulnerable body.

"My…" He doesn't know how to word what he wants to say. Deep down, he has a feeling what the answer of his unasked question will be, but he has to know for _sure_. He can't afford to hope he's wrong. He needs to know the facts. "My eyesight… is it… is it permanent?"

Just by that question, Natasha can tell he remembers briefly what happened in the factory and it breaks her heart to hear the loss of hope in his voice. "I don't know." She knows, also, deep down, but she can't find it within herself to be the one to tell him the hard, cold truth that will turn his world- his _life_ upside down.

"Natasha," He manages to choke out as she tries his hardest to control his emotions, "I need to know. I- I need you to tell me. I need to hear it from _you_. Not some doctor who gets a paycheck every month. What happened? What… what's going to happen to me?"

She hesitates for a few moments as she sucks in a deep breath, trying to figure out what exactly she's going to say to him. She presses her lips to the back of his hand as she shakes her head, fighting hard to keep the tears from spilling. The Black Widow is anything, but weak, but watching her partner lay there, waiting for her to tell him his future, she can't control how she's feeling and how much it breaks her heart to see him this way.

She licks her lips and uses her free hand to wipe the sliding tear away before clearing her throat to answer his dreaded question. "The man at the factory threw acid over your face… into your eyes, Clint." She pauses, her eyes watching his body to see how it tenses at her words. "The doctors they- they don't believe they can… I'm sorry. They don't believe they can save your eyesight. The acid destroyed your eyesight. It boiled the top half of your face. There's nothing anybody could do. Clint-"

He cuts her off in a monotone voice, although Natasha can hear the true pain in his words, "So, I'm blind?"

She doesn't answer right away. Instead, she watches his jaw clench and his muscles tighten as his hands curl up into fists by his sides. She swallows the lump in her throat and nods her head, even though he can't see her. "Yes."

What Clint did next left Natasha stunned and it took her a few seconds to fully understand what exactly he was doing.

Clint suddenly throws the covers off him, working his way to sit up in the bed. His fingers find the wires and needles that are connected to his skin and he rips them right off him, making the machines disconnect with him. He tries to get out of the bed, but that is when he realizes that his leg is in a cast and in a sling.

Letting out a frustrated huff, he tries to kick the sling off him, punching the bed hard with his fists as his mind ignores his conscience. Natasha, finally understanding what he's trying to do, jumps to her feet and pushes him down on the bed, trying to keep him still. "Barton, Barton! Listen to me, you need to lie down; you need your rest! I know you're upset and frustrated right now, but you can't be out of bed hopping around when you can't even see where you're going!"

She knows she may have been harsh just now, but she needs to get through to him; she has to get him to listen to her. He shakes his head, but eventually he lies back down, allowing his partner to reconnect him to the machines and pull the white sheet back over him. Her eyes never leave his face as she fixes him up again, but he keeps his head turned away from her.

When she finishes hooking him back up, she sits on the bed with him, sitting right next to his body as she lies down, not looking her direction. She sighs and runs her hand gently through his damp hair that's soaked in his sweat. "You're going to be okay. I promise you and-"

"Don't lie to me, Nat. That's the one thing I always loved about you; you didn't lie to me. Don't start lying to me now." He pauses so he can take a deep breath as he lays his head back on the pillow and faces the ceiling, "Don't tell me everything's going to be okay when it's clearly not. I'm blind. I can no longer see… I can no longer…" He stops himself when something registers in his head, making him grow silent.

The Black Widow already has an idea what he's thinking about and it makes her stomach turn upside down. She watches him swallow as he lifts his hands up to grip at his hair. "I'm not longer the agent I used to be." Natasha painfully listens to him speak each word so clearly, as if he is still trying to understand it himself. "I am no longer Agent Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton. Not anymore. I can't be part of SHIELD anymore. I can't shoot arrows anymore. I'm just… I'm just Clint Barton now. A useless, blind man and-"

Now it's her turn to cut him off and snap at him, "Stop it, Clint!" She glares at him as she shakes her head slowly, "You're not some blind man; you're _not_ useless. That was the one thing you never were and never will be. What happened to you was _horrible_, but you can't just give up being the agent you love being."

"Oh, I can't?" He yells, his voice cracking, "How can't I, Nat? I can't see! My eyesight was everything to me and now I'm _fucking_ blind!" His blood pressure is going up as he breathing quickens, "I will no longer be the famous 'Hawkeye' everyone knows me to be. I will no longer be able to go out in the field and do what I love to do. I will no longer be able to be independent and survive on my own. I will never be able to go visit places and see how amazing or beautiful it looks. I will never be able to see my friends and coworkers again. I will no longer be able to stare at pictures to remind me of whatever good moments I had when I was a child. I will no longer be able to look directly at a target so many feet away and shoot a perfect arrow at them, killing them in one shot. And most importantly, I will no longer have the _fucking_ chance to look straight into your fiery eyes and tell you finally that I'm in love with you!"

That last part, Natasha was not expecting to hear. He _loves_ her? He loves her. He's in love with her. Her eyes flutter as her mouth falls agape at his sudden confession. Her heart rate speeds up as she stares at him with a blank expression on her face.

"I shouldn't… I…" He finds himself speechless as he feels a blush forming its way on his cheeks. He looks away from her again and shakes his head, "I shouldn't have just blurted that out like that. I'm… I'm sorry."

"You're saying sorry?" Natasha gasps out, "Clint, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for. This entire situation is my fault. If I would have been more careful, I wouldn't have slipped up and you wouldn't have been forced to lower your gun. You saved my life and in return, I wasn't there for you. If I would have been there when the two of you were fighting then I would have been able to prevent the man to splash you with acid. I… I'm the one who's sorry."

"Natasha," Clint says surprisingly in a calm voice, "none of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong. Right now, if you weren't with me, I'd be stumbling through the hallways, trying to make it back to my room, but knowing me, I'd end up falling down a staircase. You're here for me, right now, and you have no idea how much that's helping- saving me right now."

Natasha cups his cheek gently in her hand and she allows a single tear to roll down her pale cheek, "I love you, Clint Barton. You're my partner, my companion, my best friend, my ally. You're also the man that I fell in love with. You made me able to trust people again; you saved me all those years ago and right now, I'm here to save you. With or without your eyesight, we'll get through it, like we always do. Got that?"

He manages a small smile as a tear escapes his burnt eye and soaks the bandage. "Got it."

"Now," Natasha sighs, "get some rest and when you wake up, I'll be right here. I'll always be right here beside you."

Clint nods his head slowly as he squeezes her hand tightly in his, "Thank you, Nat."

She smiles at the familiar nickname as she leans over to plant a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. He kisses her back with the same amount of passion before he feels her pulling away. She lies down beside him on the bed and places her hand gently on his chest as she lays her head on his shoulder, "You're going to be okay. I'm not lying to you, Clint. You'll be okay."

He kisses the top of her head, wanting so desperately to see her face, but now he never will. Never again. He takes a deep breath, picturing her beautiful place in his head and smiling to himself at the image.

She's there for him and that means more to him than he can ever express or explain to anyone. She's right by his side, standing by him, and watching his back as he's trapped in darkness. Natasha Romanoff is Clint's light in the darkness he's trapped in.

Clint holds Natasha's body tightly against his as he quickly mumbles three single words that part of him doubts is true, but he says it anyways, for his sake and for hers:

"I'll be okay."


End file.
